


Tired

by m_class



Series: 007 Fest 2019 Angst Prompt Table [6]
Category: James Bond (Classic movies)
Genre: Angst Prompt Table 2019 - Free Space - Exhaustion, Because Bond, Exhaustion, Gen, Sleep, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 16:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class
Summary: James Bond is exhausted.





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

> Each prompt fic can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the series in order.

The walk down the hallway to the door of James’s London flat has never seemed so long. Fumbling in his pocket for his keys, James has to bat away thoughts of just lying down on the hall carpet rather than wait another ten seconds to get inside.

God, he’s tired.

Stepping into his semi-furnished rooms, he frowns to himself, trying to judge the fastest way to get into bed. What does he really, absolutely need to do beforehand?

Take his shoes off. Yeah. Shoes. And make sure his alarm is set. And have some water. 

Twisting on the kitchen faucet, he lets the tap run cold as he toes off his loafers, leaving them sitting incongruously next to the pantry, and sets his phone alarm for a reasonable time in the morning, or, all right, afternoon. Which, considering how tired he is, is definitely reasonable. He doesn’t want to get a cold or something by giving his immune system too much of a beating, ad he particularly doesn’t want to get a cold and then have to worry about giving it to someone else. Which would mean avoiding all intimacy on his next mission, and where the merry hell is the fun in that?

Opening his phone to check messages once more before bed, James abruptly remembers the running tap, grabbing a scotch glass and gulping down the deliciously cold water. There’s only one message, from Moneypenny, wanting to reschedule a meeting Monday morning, news that fills James with glee.  _ Sounds great, see you in the PM, _ he messages back, before carrying water and phone to his bedroom and relaxing carefully onto the bed, groaning half in pain, half in relief as his aching muscles adjust to the softness beneath them.

Oh, that feels good. That feels _good._ And did he do the three things? Yeah, he did them. Right. Time to sleep. Time to get some well-earned, goddamned...  



End file.
